


If Only Christmas Could Last 26 Days

by HamishHolmes



Series: 2014 Christmas A - Zs [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 17,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamishHolmes/pseuds/HamishHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alphabetic set of stories centering round Sam and Gabe. Each will be based on a single word prompt and will be set in a different AU. It will update daily until the 25th when there'll be two installments, because it's CHRISTMAS!</p><p>Other tags, characters and couples will be added as they appear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. AIR

Sam looked at their work schedule for the next couple of months. As a wedding cake maker and wedding photographer, Sam and Gabe flew all over, all hours, all year. Granted, the extortionate fees that they could charge meant that they could charge meant that they owned a gorgeous New York flat/studio, but they were rarely in it for more than a week at a time.

He scanned the list of appointments until he found the one he was after: the 26th of December, Tran and Milligan. That was absolutely fine. He and Gabe could spend Christmas Day together and then fly out on Boxing Day morning. Sam just needed to know where the wedding was, so he could book the flight. Double clicking the pertinent document, Sam found the location. England. Surely that was a typo. Surely it meant New England.

“Gabe?” he called, knowing his husband was in ear shot.

“Yeah?” came the shouted reply.

“Where’s the Tran-Milligan wedding?”

“In England,” said Gabriel, coming through from the kitchen covered in icing sugar, “they’ve booked a gorgeous castle.”

“Good for them,” muttered Sam, though he knew that a nice location would make his job much easier.

“What’s got into you?” asked Gabriel, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck.

“The wedding. In England. On Boxing Day.”

“We do lots of Boxing Day weddings,” said Gabriel, “I can’t see the appeal myself, but whatever.”

“I couldn’t care less _when_ people want to have their weddings,” said Sam, snapping the laptop’s lid shut and leaning back into Gabe’s touch, “I care because it means that we’ll be flying on Christmas day.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” groaned Gabe, “really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Couldn’t we go out on Christmas Eve and spend Christmas Day over there too?”

“No, we have a wedding on Christmas Eve too,” said Sam dejectedly.

“We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“I’ll book an early flight,” said Sam, “then we’ll at least get a couple of drinks in on the other side of the pond.”

Gabe smiled and went back to the kitchen where he was putting the finishing touches to a cake they were about to deliver. It stood six-tiers-tall and was painted a pastel blue. Forget-me-nots danced around the tiers, sweeping up to the archway on the top, under which a miniature couple were kissing. Apparently, the forget-me-nots were an inside joke about someone’s temporary amnesia. Sam shook his head and went to change into his suit.

***

Two months later, Sam and Gabe sat in the waiting room of the airport at 5am on Christmas morning. They had checked in for their 7am flight and bought two coffees. These were drunk silently as both men were night owls, not morning people, and neither had got much sleep the night before as they double and triple checked their equipment.

They boarded the plane at even alongside one other passenger: a business man named Crowley, who looked like he had nowhere better to be on Christmas.

 _Okey dokey,_ said the pilot over the intercom system, _let’s fly._

There was a hilariously brief safety announcement and then they were off.

They had been in the air only 20 minutes when Gabriel tapped Sam’s arm.

“Alright, Gigantor, let Christmas begin.”

Sam frowned, but Gabriel was undeterred as he began rummaging in his bag. He came up holding his iPod and a splitter. He plugged both of their earphones into the antler splitter and hit play. Christmas music began to play softly.

Gabriel reached up and pushed the call button, with an air of childish glee.

The single air hostess bustled forward, glad to be of some use on the dreary flight.

“I know it’s early, but could we have two glasses of egg nog please?”

“Of course you can sir,” she turned to go and then stopped, “you know, if you want to play the music out loud, we don’t mind.”

Gabe looked up the plane to the business man, who was scowling, but since that seemed to be a permanent expression, he took out the earphones and thanked the air hostess.

The music of Shakin’ Stevens warbled through the plane and Gabriel dove back into his bag for another surprise.

“Party games!” he called, pulling out a series of little boxes, “oh and breakfast too.”

The egg nog arrived right on cue.

“That’s breakfast?” asked Sam, incredulously.

“Yeah, along with these pan au chocolats that I brought along.”

Whilst they feasted, Sam checked out the little boxes. There was _Charades, Trivia, Who Am I_ and _Pictionary._

“So what do you want to play first?” asked Gabriel, when breakfast had been reduced to crumbs.

“Charades sounds good,” said Sam.

“Okay, I’ll go first and you can guess.”

Gabe slotted a card out of the box and unclipped his seatbelt, sliding into the aisle. He grinned and held up three fingers.

“Three words.”

One finger.

“First word.”

Gabe pointed first and Sm, and then at himself.

“Us? We? Married? Couple? Adults? Male?”

“Men?” called the business man, startling Sam.

Gabe tapped his nose and smiled.

“Men in Black?” said Sam with a laugh.

“The man’s got it!”

They spent the morning playing the games, with the business man, Crowley, and the air hostess – Jo – chipping in when they could. Sam thought it was the most fun he’d had in a while.

Gabe announced at one that dinner was ready and it was time to eat. Sam hoped that it wasn’t foul airline food that he was about to be served and dutifully sat back in his seat.

Gabe tugged a brown paper bag onto his knees and interrupted Sam’s thoughts by saying, “what do you have for Christmas dinner?”

“Roast turkey,” replied Sam.

Gabe pulled out two packets of crisps and set them on the tray tables.

“Roast chicken was the closest I could get,” he said, eyes twinkling, “what else?”

“Carrots.”

Two pots of carrot sticks were produced.

“Roast potatoes.”

“Yeah this was a hard one,” said Gabe, pulling out two more Tupperwares, “you’ve seen marzipan fruits; say hello to marzipan roasties.”

Sam laughed as Gabriel whipped off the lids to reveal perfectly painted roast potatoes.

“Fantastic!”

“What else?”

“Sprouts.”

Gabriel placed two bags of chocolates wrapped like sprouts onto the tables.

“Stuffing.”

“Stuffing is used in teddy bears and that looks like …”

Gabe pulled out two bags of pink candy floss, grinning like a child.

“And finally,” he continued, “gingerbread men.”

Two gingerbread men, iced to look exactly like them were put on the tables.

“You’re insane,” said Sam, looking at the oddest Christmas dinner in history.

“And you love it!”

They stuffed their faces until the entire meal was gone, and then washed it down with another glass of egg nog each.

Then Gabe pulled out two crackers from what Sam was quickly coming to believe was a cousin of Mary Poppins’ bag.

“Good luck.”

They crossed their arms and grasped the ends of the crackers tightly.

“Three, two one, pull!”

Each man came away with one win and one loss. Perfect.

“Success!” shouted Gabriel, causing Crowley’s head to jerk upwards and the scowl to return to features that had been temporarily without crease.

He pulled out a party hat and slipped it over his brow, the hat becoming lopsided almost immediately. Sam did likewise and then gave his husband a hug. For a while, they merely sat and talked.

Eventually, Gabe said, “what else do we do every Christmas?”

“Watch _Polar Express._ ”

When the plane touched down in (rainy) England, Sam and Gabe went straight to their hotel room. After all who needs Christmas in a bar when you’ve had Christmas in the air?


	2. BLOOD

Sam found himself in a hospital on Christmas Eve, machines chirping all around him. His head ached, worry clouding his brain. It had been only an hour since Gabe had been attacked, knives burying into his stomach as Sam stood watching, begging the men to stop. He’d rushed to Gabe’s side when the men had fled, carrying money and blood-stained daggers. And found the man bleeding out onto the snow slicked pavement, the blood a rose against the milky snow.

Anger had coursed through his veins, chasing the pain and sadness, nearly consuming him in his need to avenge Gabriel. But a hand to Gabe’s wrist stopped all that as he found a weak pulse still flirting just under his skin.

Sam had found an inner strength that he didn’t think he had and lifted Gabe into his arms, holding him close and feeling his soft breath against his neck, carrying him out of the alleyway in which they had been attacked. When they reached the main pavement, he fought the torrents of people coursing along, absorbed in Christmas plans and awash with holiday cheer. He laid Gabriel on a bench and leant on his wounds, crimson blood beading from beneath his fingers and rolling along his hand.

He’d called an ambulance which came quickly to his location, all screeching tires and screaming sirens. They’d whisked Gabe away, Sam clutching his hand tightly as they sped towards supposed salvation. When they reached the hospital Gabriel was whisked away again, but that time, Sam could not follow. And instead found himself stood in the waiting room, people swirling round him, like waves round an iceberg.

Eventually a nurse had come over to him, all starched hat and white apron, and told him the news. The hospital hadn’t had very many blood donations and they didn’t have enough of Gabriel’s blood type left and they couldn’t get any across from anywhere else. He was going to die.

And so Sam found himself in the hospital, with only the machine’s mocking beep to comfort him. His brain ticked over, but his outsides remained still, as if he were frozen. He mentally went back through all the little details he knew about Gabriel, all his likes and dislikes, the little things that made him, him. Eventually he found the information he was after.

“He’s AB negative, right?” he said, voice turning the nurse around.

“Yes, I’m afraid less than one percent of the population shares his blood type,” she said with a sympathetic look.

“You’re looking at part of that one percent,” said Sam, stepping towards her, “take it. Take MY blood.”

“I’m afraid hospital proce –” The nurse was cut off by Sam’s swift movement.

Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders.

“PLEASE,” he sobbed, “he’s all I have left in this world. I can’t lose him too; I can’t.”

He dropped his hands and sobbed, desperate to save Gabriel.

***

Gabriel woke on Christmas morning, with machines chirping all around him. His head ached, and drugs dulled his mind, but he was well aware of two pains. One was in his abdomen where the knives had entered, cutting his life a little shorter. The other was his left hand where something was gripping him tightly. He opened his eyes to find he was in a hospital bed, pushed close to another. There lay Sam, scar across his forearm, smile across his face.


	3. COMFORT

Sam had been having a rough time in the run up to Christmas. His job had been stressful as clients changed specifications last minute and demanded that the alterations were done before Christmas. He’d had his car towed because he was a minute late on the meter repayment and he’d had to call to say that his dad was back in rehab. All in all, he had not been looking forwards to Christmas.

But that changed on Christmas Eve when he arrived home to find his house sweetly lit by dimmed lights, a tastefully decorated Christmas tree in the window and heavenly scents flooding from the doorway. He dropped his briefcase by the door and stripped off his outer clothes, hanging them neatly in the porch. Padding through to the kitchen in his socks, Sam found his oldest friend – Gabriel – humming loudly as he stirred a wok full of fantastic looking food. He refrained from crying, but only just, as he hugged Gabe from behind.

“Hey Sasquatch,” he said, turning in Sam’s grip to return the hug, “I thought you could do with being looked after this Christmas.”

Then Sam really did cry, tears dribbling long his nose and then falling to hang in Gabe’s hair.

“You are the best,” he said, voice muffled by their embrace, “I love you.”

He caught his breath as Gabriel pulled back, terrified that he’d said the wrong thing. That Gabe would leave and never come back. His head fell and he could no longer look Gabriel in the eyes, but a finger under his chin lifted it, forcing him to look at Gabriel.

“I love you too,” said Gabriel, leaning in for a kiss.

Sam’s Christmas had never been more comforting in his life.


	4. DEATH

Gabriel was terrified of Christmas. It was one of the weirdest phobias his psychiatrist had ever come across, or so he said; Gabriel didn’t think there was anything weird about it. 

“But _why_ are you so scared of Christmas?” his doctor always asked.

Gabriel usually bullshitted an answer, something about how he found Santa creepy (he did) or how he was scared of getting someone something they didn’t like (he was) but they weren’t the real reasons. There was always something more

***

It was Christmas 2013 and the lights were strung around their house, the music was blaring and the kitchen was a hive of activity. It was everything Gabriel loved about Christmas, but it would soon come to be everything he hated, everything he feared.

They had been sat around the table, feasting and laughing. A few bottles of wine were already empty and more were following quickly. Somehow, Gabriel had ended up seated across from Sam, not next to him, and, though he’d pouted to start with, he’d soon cheered up. He’d been in the kitchen getting dessert when he’d heard the clatter. Dropping everything, he’d rushed through to the dining room where he’d found everyone clustered round Sam’s prone body. Pushing his way to the front and shouting for someone to call an ambulance, he fell to his knees beside Sam. Thick gravy covered the front of his shirt, so Gabriel pulled it apart and away, giving Gabe space to check Sam’s pulse. Nothing. He began to pound on Sam’s chest, starting on CPR straight away, but to no avail. When the ambulance arrived, Sam was pronounced dead at the scene.

That image of Sam, paper hat on at a jaunty angle, lit by fairy lights and a smile on his face haunted Gabriel. It waited in the shadows and it waited in his dreams.

Gabriel was always scared that when Christmas came around, someone else would be taken.


	5. EARS

Sam held Gabe’s hand tightly as they walked along the street, attempting to share some of his body heat with his husband through the single point of contact. Strapped carefully to Gabe’s chest was a small baby boy, wrapped up in layer upon layer of warm clothes. Unfortunately, his daddies had not been as careful with themselves and found that they were now freezing their asses off on the walk back from Dean and Cas’ apartment to their own, two blocks away.

Gabriel shivered and Bobby-john stirred against his chest.

“Maybe he’s cold,” fretted Gabe, the picture of paternal worry.

“Not as cold as we are,” Sam pointed out, leaning in to kiss the concern from his face.

“True,” said Gabe, his blue lips pulled up into a wry smile, “hurry up then.”

“’Hurry up’ he says,” said Sam in a stage whisper to Bobby-john, “but its Papa’s short legs which are slowing us down."

Gabe’s eyebrows shot up, and whilst Sam was still bent down, he made a grab for his hat. Finding it in his hand, he laughed out loud and he ran, feet pounding the pavement as he sprinted for their house. About two doors down from theirs, Gabriel found himself being overtaken by a tall man with long-loping strides. Gabriel bent double by the door, panting.

“Alright ... you … bastard,” gasped Gabriel, “you win.”

Sam smiled and unlocked their door, “Language, honey.”

“You’re right,” said Gabriel, slipping past his husband and into the warmth.

He settled Bobby-john down for a nap as quickly as he could, Gabriel went to find Sam, who he eventually found in the living room.

“I’ve got cold ears now, jackass,” said Sam, as he saw Gabriel.

“Let me help you warm up, baby,” said Gabriel, slipping onto Sam’s lap and kissing deeply, letting Sam dominated the kiss, before his hands drifted up to cup the sides of Sam’s face and then further until they pushed the hair back from the other man’s ears, and then he leant in, sucking gently first on one earlobe, and then on the other.

“Warm yet?” he whispered in Sam’s ear.

The shiver that ran through Sam’s body had nothing to do with the cold.

When Bobby-john woke, both men were suitably warm. In fact, they were sweating.


	6. FREEDOM

Wistful eyes gazed downwards through the cloud layer to the town below. Still hands held a photograph tightly as he stared. Restless feet tapped against the floor as he ached.

But he had sworn.

No more running.

That life was over for him now; he was going to stand up to his siblings and look after heaven, not go gallivanting off after tall, handso- … after humans. He stood, thrusting the photograph back into his jacket pocket and muttering to unhearing ears.

“Gabriel,” came a voice behind him, low and forgiving, and yet laced with steel, “why are you here?”

“You made me; don’t you know?” he spat, not wanting to talk with his father.

“I meant in this place, not in existence,” said God, coming into Gabriel’s peripheral vision.

“Did _you_ come here for a reason?” asked Gabe mulishly as tears threatened to roll out of his eyes.

“Of course, did you?”

“Yes, but let’s hear yours first.”

“I came to find you.”

“I came to find solace and mourn for what can never be,” Gabe frowned, pain radiating from his face, “and evidently to become a freakin’ poet.”

“I know.”

“THEN WHY DID YOU ASK?!” yelled Gabriel, all three pairs of wings extending to their fullest, and blazing in the sun.

“Because I needed to know if your emotions where true,” said God, stepping forwards.

“Of course they are,” said Gabriel bitterly.

“Not that it makes a difference.”

“It makes all the difference in the world.”

Gabriel looked searchingly into his father’s eyes, but they were as ever, they were totally unreadable.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m setting you free, my son,” said God, laying his hand on Gabe’s shoulder, “go to him.”

“I can’t; I promised,” said Gabe.

“Well, I have released you from your promise. You’re not running away; you are leaving home.”

Gabriel looked deep into his father’s eyes again, desperately looking for the truth. He found it and laughed, whirling away in a spiral of sparks, radiating out until they consumed the sky above heaven.

***

Sam was sat beneath the stars, when colours erupted around. Hues of crimson, azure and sapphire blazed all around. Awe filled his body, and a sense that it was somehow for him persisted into the back of his mind.  
But when the beauty faded, another ethereal beauty was left in its place and the only thing that Sam felt was love, pure love.

As he raced to kiss Gabriel he thanked God for the best Christmas gift of all time.


	7. GIFT

Sam woke on the 22nd December and was suddenly aware of how close Christmas was. Mainly, because the radio host woke him with a cheerful, “All you shoppers out there had better get your skates on. Because there’s only three more days until the big one.”

He groaned and rolled over.

“Gabe?” he called, when his probing arms couldn’t find anyone on the other side of the bed.

“Yeah?” said Gabriel, emerging from their en-suite, face half covered in shaving foam.

“Who’ve you bought presents for?” asked Sam, sitting up and combing his hair back with his fingers.

“Just you, sugar-plum,” said Gabe, going back into their bathroom.

“We’d better go shopping then.”

In just over half an hour, the two of them stepped out of their flat, scarves round necks and hands shoved in pockets, fighting off the cold.

“Okay,” said Sam, “we need 22 gifts by tomorrow so we can get them wrapped in time for the drive to Dean’s.”

“Easy,” said Gabe, “I hope.”

They walked along the street, passing cafes and restaurants, most of which were already full of customers, eager for their morning caffeine fix.

The boys lived in a converted fire station, so they weren’t in the city centre. But there were lots of quaint gift shops run by women who wore floral perfumes and floaty scarves. Usually Sam and Gabe avoided them like the plague, but desperation breeds stupidity, as Dean was fond of saying.

They were hit by the overpowering stench of the perfume as they entered the shop and Sam had to put a hand on Gabe’s back to stop him from bolting straight back out into the street.

He smiled a forced smile at the lady behind the counter and pulled Gabe across to the back wall where a bunch of novelty stuff was hanging.

“If you see anything just shout and we’ll get it,” said Sam, “we don’t have time to piss around.”

Gabe nodded and began to flick through the racks of packets. Sam mooched over to a table, upon which stood bottles and potions of all scents.

“I’ve got some things,” said Gabriel, after a few minutes of awkward silence stretched through the shop.

“Yeah?” said Sam, going back over and resting a hand on one of Gabe’s shoulders.

“You know how Dean’s gone all healthy now that he’s gone domestic with Cassie and so he cycles everywhere?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, how about this bike pizza cutter because they still stuff their faces on it regularly.”

“Great,” said Sam, “what else?”

“I can’t decide between these AK-47 bullet ice cube trays or the titanic ones, of Balthazar.”

“Don’t you remember what happened last time someone bought him titanic merchandise, even as a joke?”

Gabriel shuddered.

“Bullets it is then,” he said, putting the other packet back.

“And since Chuck spends all his time in his dressing gown he might as well have a nice one.”

He held it out to Sam.

“Rocky?” asked Sam.

“Yeah, he’s got them all on DVD,” Gabe pulled a face, “apparently they help with his migraines.”

Sam shrugged and pulled Gabe gently over to the table where he’d been looking.

“What do you think about this for Anna?” 

He held out a small box of toiletries called _Radio Gaga,_ which was filled with shower gel and other products all with cheesy Queen related names.

“I’m not sure,” said Gabriel, looking round the other items.

“No, you’re probably right; after all, she’s your sister.”

Sam slipped the box back into its space and walked over to the table Gabe was looking at. It was chocka-block with glasses and more expensive trinkets. Sam picked up a couple of 40th anniversary wine glasses, but that wasn’t really what they were there to look for, so he put them back, but as he did, the lights glinted off something else, catching his attention.

“Don’t you think these would look good in Ash and Jo’s kitchen?” he said, holding up a whiskey tumbler. Halfway up the glass was a black line. On the top was written optimist and on the bottom pessimist. 

“Absolutely, although I’d be surprised if their glasses ever got that empty.”

They were heading for the lady behind the desk (ignoring her scowl), when Gabriel veered away towards another table. Sam put their gifts on the counter and followed.

“What are you looking at? And quickly ‘cause she’s giving us the eye,” whispered Sam.

“Cassie has to wear cufflinks to work doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“And he’s a nerd right?”

“If you wanna say that.”

“So, volcanic glass cufflinks are right up his street,” said Gabriel, picking up a box and adding it to their pile of stuff on the counter.

“Thank you, darlin’,” said the lady, though her tone was anything but enthusiastic.

“You’re welcome, dearie,” said Gabriel, his voice considerably more enthusiastic than hers.

She scowled, but rang through their purchases anyway. They paid and left, breathing a sigh of relief the moment they were out the door.

“Holy hell, she was a bit snobbish wasn’t she?” said Gabriel.

“I know, she clearly thought we were dicks.”

“Well, you are,” said Gabe, neatly sidestepping the swing Sam took.

Laughing, they made their way further along the street, passing sweet shops, bars and bus shelters.

They entered the shop full of smelly stuff (soaps, shower gels, candles etc.). The man behind the counter looked slightly embarrassed to be working there, but Sam smiled to put him at ease.

“Stuff for the ladies in here,” said Gabe.

“You think Jo’d like something from here?” Sam looked round sceptically, thinking of her alcohol drinking, snooker hustling, knife collecting friend.

“Maybe not,” said Gabriel, “but Jody and Becky.”

“Maybe Anna?” said Sam, beginning to look around.

“I was thinking perfume for Anna,” said Gabriel, not willing to admit just how much thought he’d put into the present.

Sam gave him a knowing glance, but merely said, “I’ll look for something for Jody; you do Becky.”

“But I’m sure Becky’ll want to know that her ex-true love chose her present.”

“Exactly why I’m choosing Jody’s!” exclaimed Sam, moving off to smell soaps and test hand-creams.

“If Becky tries to make a pass at you this Christmas, I might have to rip off one of her arms for messing with my man,” said Gabe in a conversational tone.

Sam grinned, loving Gabe’s protective side, though he’d never say so. After a few minutes Gabriel spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen over the shop.

“This is hard; there’s nothing labelled _Perfect for you ex-stalker who’s now your friend’s girlfriend.”_

“Nor are there any labelled _Ideal for your friend who is a cop and used to date your friend (who used to be your enemy and is now married to your adopted father) and once mistakenly arrested you and your brother,”_ complained Sam.

“Yeah, like there’s never a gift card that says, _To my half-brother. Congratulations on your marriage to my husband’s cousin.”_

“It’s almost as if our family isn’t normal.”

“I did see a card once for two brothers who married another set of brothers … no wait … maybe that was a porno.”

They let the awkward silence fall, both watching the cashier’s reaction to their comments.

“This one’s called _Badass,”_ said Sam, holding up a bottle.

“Very Jody. I think I’m going for _Obsession_ for Becky.”

“Slightly mean, but fair.”

Sam took both bottles to the counter and paid, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing at the cashier’s expression. They managed to get outside, just. Then Gabriel looked at Sam, and they cracked up, Sam bent double and Gabriel clutching his stomach as they roared with laughter.

“Did you see his face?” Gabriel wheezed.

“He thought we were escaped mental patients or something,” laughed Sam, heaving himself upright again.

The shop next door was a shop full of merchandise and people normally avoided it, but Sam thought that Charlie might like one of the Harry Potter mugs he’d seen in the window once, so when their hysteria subsided, they went in. Sam made his way over to the Harry Potter section, whilst Gabe looked around the rest of the shop.

Sam found the mug he was after quickly. On one side was a picture of Hermione Granger and on the other was written: Hermione Granger’s got nothing on me, bitches. To this he added a platform 9¾ lanyard and a necklace on the end of which hung a small vial and a label, Felix Felicis.

When he went back over to his husband, he found the man holding a basketful of stuff and wearing a sheepish expression. There was a pacman-ghost lamp and ninja-throwing-star hook for the geeky side of Kevin, two aprons (one for Dean that said _Best Chef_ in the style of the Heineken logo, and one for Castiel in the style of Vader’s chest) and a couple of classic rock shirts for Ben.

They paid and hurried onwards, painfully aware of how many more gifts they had to buy. There was an alcohol shop next door, and they stopped in to buy a bottle of Jack Daniels for John and some artisan beers for Adam, mainly because they couldn’t think of anything else to get him.

“Let’s just go to a department store for everyone else’s,” said Sam, “I’m already tired, and we have to wrap these and pack yet.”

“Sounds good to me,” smiled Gabe, but then he stopped, “actually can we just go to a little shop I know in that alley; I ordered something for Jo a couple of months ago and it should have come in by now.”

“Ordered something in? That’s a bit organised.”

“Only ‘cause I ordered it for her birthday last month and it didn’t arrive in time.”

“That sounds more like the Gabe I know,” said Sam, following with a smile.

They entered the small dark shop. The paint on the sign outside was peeling away and it smelt mainly of peppermint humbugs. But the moment the door was open, the man behind the counter shot a friendly smile at Sam and then he saw Gabe.

“Hello Gabriel,” he said, “the knife is here.”

“Oh yeah?” said Gabe, leaning on the desk in a gesture of familiarity. 

“It’s beautiful,” breathed the man almost reverently.

The man lifted out a long slender black box and laid it gently on the counter top where Gabriel looked at it. Sam looked around the rest of the shop, well aware that he had nothing to do with the transaction taking place, and feeling almost as if he was trespassing on something sacred. As he looked around, his gaze fell on a stack of ancient looking books. He went over to them to have a look, stroking the covers lightly and turned a few pages delicately. Inside were myths and languages long lost translated into languages just about hung on to. Stories of Gods he’d never come across and rituals he’d never heard of danced through the pages.

“How much for the whole set?” asked Sam, interrupting the silence that had fallen over the small shop.

“£60,” breathed the shop owner, and Sam realised that the hush wasn’t the normal awkward silence.

“Sam,” said Gabriel, his voice quieter than Sam had ever heard him, “look at it.”

Sam’s gaze fell on the knife and he stopped, letting the books fall the last inch onto the counter. Shimmering, twisting steel formed a thin blade, which widened ever so slightly towards the hilt, round which was inlaid in sapphires and mother of pearl, which gave it an ethereal quality, as if it was made by God’s own hands.

“Holy mother fucking shit,” said Sam, “it’s so beautiful. She’ll love it.”

Gabriel slipped the knife back onto the silk of the box and slipped it shut, breaking the spell that it held over the room. Suddenly, the clocks seemed to have reset and time snapped back to normal. They bought both the books and the knife and left the store, Gabriel promising to return again.  
They made their way back to the street and then onwards to the department store at the end, tired of being outside in the season they usually spent in their pyjamas. They entered through the perfume department and Gabriel stopped to smell a few, before deciding on one called _Forgotten Angel_ for Anna. Sam smelt it too and thought it was very nice, but it did make Gabe smell disconcertingly like someone else. They made their way swiftly out of the perfume department and through the makeup department without buying anything else. This meant that they found themselves quickly in the cookery department. Gabriel thought Mary might like some new cookbooks and so he headed that way, followed dutifully by Sam until the taller man laid a hand on Gabriel shoulder to stop him.

“Don’t you think those colour-coded boards and matching knives would appeal to Lisa’s kitchen obsessiveness?” He pointed across to where a large advertisement was yelling about a discount on those products.

“Perfect,” said Gabriel, holding out the basket for the new goodies.

Sam obliged and then they headed out again for the cookbook section, but before they could get there, they were waylaid again, because Sam wondered whether Michael would want the _ULTIMATE_ cocktail tool, for when he threw one of his cocktail parties. Gabriel decided that it was probably a good idea and so it went into the basket.

When they finally got to the cookbook aisle, they quickly chose two Delia Smith cookbooks for Mary and a low-salt cookbook for Crowley because, as Gabe put it, “the man’s a freak and when he even sees salt, he runs off.”

“Okay, last stretch,” said Sam, “I went to get a frame to put that photo of us in, for Ellen”

“Then let’s head for home-ware and hope we see something for Luci on the way,” said Gabriel, changing hands with his basket and shaking out one of his arms.

“We’ll stop at the coffee-house on the way home, if you’d like,” said Sam, gently taking the basket from Gabe’s hand.

“I could have managed that,” said Gabe, giving Sam a little push.

“Well, now I’ll manage,” said Sam, bending down and planting a kiss on Gabe’s lips. 

They headed in the direction of home-ware. At least they thought they did. They actually found themselves in an aisle with shelves stacked high with Christmas crap and gift sets.

“Choose one of these sets for Luci,” said Sam, pointing to the racks.

“You could help,” said Gabe, mainly because he had no idea what to get Luci.

“He’s into cooking isn’t he?” said Sam, lifting up a _Make Your Own Sausage Kit._

“Yeah, but telling him to make a sausage after the amount of alcohol we’ll have consumed by that point.”

“That’s a good point,” said Sam, putting the box back quickly.

Gabriel reached down and down to the bottom shelf and picked up a _Scorching Condiments Set._

“Sounds good,” said Sam, who didn’t give a damn at that point.

Gabriel grabbed Sam’s and hand and pulled him onwards, “come on, and let’s get out of here.”

They quickly chose a photo frame for Ellen and then paid, escaping from their shopping hell.


	8. HAPPINESS

Gabriel’s feet ached as he trudged up the path to the front door, stamping deep footprints in the snow as he went. He had been working late, and now it was finally Christmas Eve and he could take a week off. He opened the door with no need for keys, which told him that Sam was home.

“Hey baby,” he called up the stairs as he removed his jacket, scarf and shoes, “I’m home.”

There was no reply, but this was not unusual. As a lawyer who generally worked with AC/DC in the background, it was not unheard of for him to miss Gabe’s shout. Gabe had thought on the day, when Gabe could lay in bed all morning if they chose, that Sam would be on the lookout for him, but he didn’t mind.

Throwing his scarf and coat onto their hooks, he climbed the stairs to the study, but Sam wasn’t there either. Though he was slightly worried at this point, he wasn’t in a full on panic and so he climbed the stairs onwards towards their bedroom. He pushed the door open slowly so as not to wake Sam if he was sleeping.

When the door was fully open, he gasped.

Soft light from the fairy lights filled the room with an ethereal golden glow and chased shadows from the hall. The bed was neatly made, but rose petals were strewn across it by careful hands. On the side table was a bottle of champagne and two flutes, winking in the low light. In all his days he had never seen a room look so beautiful, though it still fell short of how beautiful Sam looked whenever he smiled. Gabriel was utterly gobsmacked.

“Hey Gabe,” said Sam, voice soft as he stepped out into the light.

“Holy hell, Sam,” breathed Gabe, not over the look of the room.

Sam took one of Gabe’s hands with a smile and sat him on the edge of the bed.

“Gabriel,” said Sam, his voice soft and slightly scared, “when I first saw you in that bar on Christmas Eve, I thought you were gorgeous and I was ready for a one night stand. So hyped up on egg nog, far too many candy canes, flashing lights, blaring music, dodgy costumes and you, I made the best decision of my life.”

Sam paused and appeared to think.

“No actually, it was the second best decision of my life,” continued Sam, “the best was when I woke up to glorious sunshine that couldn’t compare with the beauty in the bed next to me and asked you to stay. So now I’m asking you to stay again.”

He got down on one knee, pulling a ring box from his pocket.

“Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

Gabriel looked across at Sam, whose head was now at eye level with him. He saw in his face such love and adoration that tears began to spill from his eyes as he started to grin too.

“You’ll have to settle for second, I’m afraid,” he sniffed, “because I am the happiest man alive. Of course I’ll marry you, idiot.”

Gabriel threw himself onto Sam, finding his lips and kissing them thoroughly.


	9. INNOCENCE

Gabriel and Sam allowed Mary to drag them towards the grotto. Garish tinsel and fairy lights were hung everywhere, causing minor migraines to all people over the age of 12. Even Gabriel wanted to tone it down a bit, but Mary pulled on, tiny 5 year old hand tucker into Gabriel’s who in turn was holding onto Sam’s wrist.

“Come _on,_ Papa,” she called over her shoulder.

“Santa will wait until we get there, honey,” said Gabriel, his smile showing how fake his ‘annoyance’ was.

“What if he leaves?” asked Mary, not stopping.

“He won’t,” said Sam, “don’t worry baby.”

“I still want to get there quickly,” said Mary.

“Okay,” said Gabriel as they reached the back of the queue, “we have to wait here now, because other children want to see Santa.”

“Okay,” said Mary, not letting go of her Papa’s hand.

The Christmas fête at Mary’s primary school was drawing to a close, but they couldn’t go before Mary had seen Santa. Sam was worried about whether they’d get home in time for Dan and Cas’ arrival with Robbie, but Gabriel had pointed out that Dean had keys anyway and knew where the beer was kept, so there was no issue. Sam relaxed after that, but still wasn’t excited about practically crawling into the ‘grotto’ to see one of Mary’s teachers dressed in a fat suit and a red hat.

The queue wasn’t very long and it moved rather slowly, but Mary stood there patiently, little arms folded.

Sam twined his fingers into Gabriel’s and leant down to whisper in his ear.

“Ten bucks says it’s Mr Cole.”

“Alright,” whispered Gabriel in return, “I’ll put my money on it being Mr Lewis.”

“You’re on,” said Sam, kissing Gabriel to seal the deal.

“Papa’s on what?” asked Mary, looking up.

“He’s on a roll,” said Sam, smiling.

“Okay,” Mary’s eyes flicked away, “ooh! We’re at the front!”

“Alright, darling, let’s stay calm for Santa.”

Mary grinned, nodded and raced into the grotto. Sam and Gabriel followed at a more sedate pace, because Sam had to bend double to get through the low door. The Christmas inside was even worse. It was like someone had feasted on glitter and then vomited it up into the grotto, but of course, Mary thought it was fantastic. She leapt up onto Santa’s lap, as Sam and Gabe stood at the back, watching with stupid grins on their faces.

“Hello Mary, HO HO HO,” said ‘Santa’, in a horrific accent, “how are you?”

“I’m fine thank you, Santa; how are you?” asked Mary, politely interested.

Sam and Gabe shared a smile at the back, noticing her fantastic manners and silently congratulating themselves on bringing up a fantastic little girl.

“I’m fine thank you, and what would you like for Christmas?” 

“I would really like a pair of pink trainers and a …” Mary leant in and whispered in his ear.

“Okay, I’ll do that,” said Santa, “and here’s something to keep you going till Christmas day.”

He handed her a small package.

“Thank you, Santa,” said Mary, kneeling up to give the man a peck on the cheek.

She scampered out of the grotto, not waiting for her fathers.

“Wait for us at the sweet stall!” yelled Gabe after her.

“Okay!”

“The sweet stall?” asked Sam.

“What, I want some more flying saucers!”

Sam laughed, “It’s like I have two kids!”

They moved closer to the man in the suit, looking closely.

“Aw, damn!” said Gabriel, fishing out his wallet, “how did you get the gig, Mr Cole?”

“We drew lots and I lost,” said Mr Cole, tearing off his beard, “now get out of here so Santa can leave!”

Sam took the tenner from Gabe and then, almost as an afterthought said, “What did Mary whisper to you?”

“You’ll find out in good time,” said Mr Cole, shoving them out of the room.

***

On Christmas morning, when Sam and Gabriel followed Mary downstairs to open their presents from Santa, they found a small envelope addressed to them on the top. On the back, it said From Santa

“Did you put this here?” Sam asked Mary, holding it up.

“It was with the other post,” said Mary, “I just put it on the table.”

“Okay …” said Sam, unsure of what to do.

Gabriel decided for him, taking the letter and opened it, sitting on the floor next to Mary.

 _Sam and Gabe_ read the note _Mary asked me if I could do something for you guys, so I have done as she asked. She’s going to be looked after on New Year’s Eve by your brothers so that you two can go out and enjoy yourselves.  
Merry Christmas,  
Santa _

Sam and Gabe frowned at each other.

“Thank you Mary.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.”

Gabe guessed that childish innocence wasn’t so bad after all.


	10. JEALOUSY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that it took forever to get this sorted, but life got in the way. Hope you like the new chapters

Sam was pissed, and not the good kind of pissed. It was Christmas Eve and Gabe had gone out. He’d said that he had something he needed to do. Yeah, right, someone more likely. Sam had decided that the best policy was to be both kinds of pissed, so he opened a bottle of whiskey and sat down to wallow in his pain.

Sam was pissed, both kinds of pissed. He couldn’t believe that Gabriel was out getting shagged when he, Sam, was home alone. It was even worse, because Sam could have been shagging Gabe, but clearly he wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t believe that Gabe had gone out without him on Christmas Eve. What a dick. He could even picture the guy Gabe would be fucking. Tall (though not as tall as Sam, maybe Dean’s height) with big muscles and shorter hair. He’d be the kind of guy to push Gabe up against a wall and kiss him roughly, not tenderly like Sam had always thought he liked. He’d be the kind of guy who’d take Gabe somewhere public and dry hump, instead of the soft, slow love making that Sam had thought Gabriel liked.

That Gabriel did like.

Sam sat up, brain fighting his jealousy and the alcohol to come to a single conclusion.

Gabriel loved him.

Gabriel Milton would not be out there fucking another guy, he’d be doing exactly what he said he would be: something he had to do before Christmas Day. Sam stood up. How pathetic he would look if Gabriel arrived now. He quickly stashed the whiskey bottle amongst their other liquor, shoving to the back, so Gabe wouldn’t notice that it was open now and ran upstairs, throwing himself in the shower and scrubbing the scent of loneliness off his skin and the fumes of whiskey from his hair. Then he brushed his teeth twice and used mouthwash, trying to remove the taste of alcohol from his mouth.

Feeling like he had succeeded, he moved to the bedroom, dressing in his pyjamas and getting out a book to read until Gabe came home.

That was how Gabe found him that night when he finally made it back to the house with Sam’s present in tow. He couldn’t believe that the delivery guy had taken this long to have the custom made furniture (fashioned from the seats of a Chevy Impala) brought to them, but now Gabe had got it wrapped and through into the living room for the next morning. 

When Sam opened it the next morning, he cried. He just couldn’t believe that someone knew him so well and loved him so much. He also couldn’t believe that he’d been so suspicious of Gabriel. He loved him with all his heart. Sam was never jealous again.


	11. KISS

Smooth glass rubbed against Sam’s hand. He looked down to find a glass of egg nog being pushed into his hand by his brother, who looked like he’d already chugged a few himself.

“THANK YOU!” shouted Sam above the fourth repeat of Shakin’ Stevens.

“You’re welcome,” said Dean, giving his shoulder a shove, “now, go mingle!”

Sam pushed off from the wall, uncertainly making his way out into the room where lots of couples were dancing very badly to horrifically cheesy Christmas music. But Sam, didn’t have anyone to dance with, so he avoided that dance floor, heading instead for the well-laden food table.

He grabbed another tree-cookie, the twelfth of his night, and went on to down his egg nog.

“Hey,” said a voice behind him, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

Sam turned to see Gabriel, his brother’s boyfriend’s cousin, a tree biscuit half eaten in his hand.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you either,” said Sam, putting his egg nog glass on the table and grabbing a bottle of beer.

“Didn’t Dean tell you?” asked Gabriel, “this is my place!”

“What?!” said Sam, shouting in both surprise and an effort to be heard over the music.

“This is where I live,” said Gabriel, with a slight gesture.

“But it’s so big,” said Sam, stupidly.

“I know,” said Gabe, “I’m not sure how I afforded it either.”

Sam laughed and took another swig of beer.

“So why are you here tonight, Sasquatch? I wouldn’t have you pegged as the kind of guy who would go to a Christmas party without knowing the host,” said Gabriel, shoving the rest of his biscuit into his mouth.

“Nah, Cas asked me to get Dean out of the house and when I asked him what he wanted to do, he said a party was going down here. I think Cas said he was going to join us later.”

Sam shrugged and drank again, too much alcohol and a close proximity to a gorgeous man was making him nervous.

“Sounds like Cassie,” said Gabriel.

They stood for a minute in awkward silence, filled by the sound of them both drinking. After a while, Gabriel spoke again.

“Why haven’t I seen you dancing yet?” he asked, gesturing to the middle of the room where couples were now dancing to rocking around the Christmas tree.

“People over six foot generally have a hard time controlling their freakishly long limbs on the dance floor -” swig of beer “- and I have no one to dance with.”

“One, I don’t believe that and two, you do now.”

Gabriel tugged the beer from Sam’s hand and put it back on the table with his own before grabbing Sam’s hand and dragging him out onto the dance floor.  
“Gabe!” protested Sam, but to no avail as Gabriel grabbed his other wrist and began to dance without inhibitions.

After a while, Sam had to join in, compelled by the music and Gabe’s own enthusiasm. After their third song, the Christmas music faded out to be replaced by a slow song. All around people were stepping closer, smiling softer smiles and feeling peace. Sam tried to move away, but Gabriel slipped his arm around Sam’s waist.

“Ah, come on, I’ve got no one else to dance with.”

Sam relaxed, putting one hand on Gabe’s shoulder and another on his waist. Sam exhaled into the hold, swaying with the beat, and soon Gabriel laid his head on Sam’s chest as they danced, soft and slow. Sam’s arms contracted unconsciously, drawing the shorter man even closer. The music still played, but Sam wasn’t really listening any longer, swaying instead to the beat of Gabriel’s heart. When the song ended, Gabe drew away slightly, but took hold of Sam’s wrists, dragging him gently off the dance floor and towards the drinks table, but before they could get there, Sam spotted an empty sofa and decided that he needed to sit down. He sank into the low seat and gestured to Sam to sit beside him.

“There’s no space beside you, Gigantor,” smirked Gabriel, enjoying the view.

Sam didn’t respond, drunk enough to resort to physicality and not to care about how he looked anymore, so he merely pulled Gabe down onto his knee, arms wrapping around his waist.

“Plenty of space left for you,” said Sam.

“I see you’re right, now that I’m here,” smiled Gabriel, pretending that his breaths weren’t coming a little faster.

Sam looked up at Gabe’s face, for the first time ever, and the slight fog of his drunken mind left, leaving him with one clear idea, one clear thought. He leant forwards, crushing his lips against Gabe’s. He could taste the beer on Gabe’s breath but beneath it was a unique flavour that was unique to Gabe. 

It was at this point that a completely lost Dean leapt over the back of the sofa and landing on them both. Well … at least it was a good story to tell the children.


	12. LIFE

Sam was pregnant. He wasn’t really sure how it happened, but he guessed that Gabe’s Archangel Powers meant that getting men pregnant was possible too. He’d woken up one morning with a dull ache in his abdomen and an urgent need to retch. Gabe had explained that it could happen early on in their relationship, but it wasn’t until Sam was staring at the cold porcelain at seven in the morning, that he thought it could happen to him.

Now that he was there, knees pressed against the hard tiles and arms clutching the toilet like it was the last port in the storm, he wished that he’d read up a little on pregnancy. Although, he thought, there probably aren’t that many books on male pregnancy. He stood and rinsed out his mouth, avoiding his own eyes in his reflection. He made his way out of the en-suite, slowly so as not to upset his stomach again, and watched Gabe dressing from the doorway for a second, before he spoke.

“Um …” said Sam, the way they did when they wanted to be heard, but actually wouldn’t mind if the other person didn’t actually hear them.

“Yeah?” said Gabe, turning with his shirt half-buttoned and his hair in a mess.

He saw Sam’s worried – and slightly green – face and stopped what he was doing, “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I … I’m … Well, um I’m … I’m pregnant!” Sam burst out, moving away, as scared of the Archangel’s joy as he was of his wrath.

“Sammy” yelled Gabriel, sounding child-like in his excitement, “I’m so happy for us! I love you!”

He checked himself, noticing Sam’s look, “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yes,” said Sam, instantly, “I’m so happy to be starting a family with you, but I think I’m gonna vomit again!”

***

Now Sam wasn’t so sure about being happy to start a family. Agony flared along his hip-bones, flaring across his abdomen.

“Baby, you need to push!” came Gabriel’s voice from somewhere, commanding and firm.

Sam screamed and pushed, pain careering round his body like a joy-rider on speed. This was not how he imagined Christmas Eve, even though the baby was due on December 29th. He’d pictured a quiet Christmas with no alcohol and his family round him, sharing his joy. Now, sweat coated his body like a second skin and a weird feeling was spreading upwards from his hips.

“Okay, Sam, last push,” said Gabriel, letting Sam grab hold of his hand as he pushed, another agonised shout ripping from his throat.

The baby was finally delivered, though Sam wasn’t sure from where, or how, but he didn’t care and he certainly didn’t actually want to know. He tried to hang onto consciousness until he could be handed his baby, his precious baby, but his body began to shut down, exhausted after the hours in labour. Though he fought hard, the darkness filled his skull and he was out.

***

“Sammy,” said a voice above him.

“Go away, Dean,” said Sam, rolling over.

“You need to see your baby, so wake up and man up.”

Sam cracked an eyelid, a smile dancing across his face, but screwed it shut again when the bright light began to hurt his retinas. Then he sat up, gingerly, until he could rest his back against the wall behind him, unable to sit up unaided.

“How’re you doing?” asked Dean, handing him a glass of water.

“I’m alright,” said Sam, chugging back the whole glass and putting it back on the table beside him.

“Well, Gabriel won’t let us see the baby until you have,” said Dean, “so hurry it up.”

It was at this moment that Gabe arrived, tiny bundle held against his chest.

“Out, come on,” said Gabe, when he saw Dean.

Sam’s brother sighed, but left, leaving the couple to their privacy.

“Hey Sasquatch,” said Gabriel softly, sitting next to him on the bed and stroking the loose hair away from Sam’s eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey,” said Sam, but he was looking down at the bundle on Gabe’s chest, not at his husband’s face.

“One day, and you’re already ignoring me for her,” teased Gabriel.

Sam leant across and kissed Gabriel softly, “No, I’m not.”

“Nah, I’d ignore me to, I mean, our little girl is gorgeous.”

Gabe handed their baby across to Sam, who let her snuggle against his chest and then slipped his arm around Sam’s shoulder.

“Oh, Sweetie,” said Sam, tears in his eyes, “Oh, Gabe, she’s so beautiful.”

Gabriel’s hand found Sam’s free hand and their fingers twined and they shared a moment.

“Well, she takes after her daddy,” he said, a soft smile on his face.

“Is that you or me?” asked Sam.

“You. I’m more of a Papa, I think,” said Gabe, giving Sam’s hand a soft squeeze, “But what are we gonna call her?”

“I don’t know.”

“I was thinking maybe Mary Ellen Winchester after your mums.”

“Mary Ellen, you should know that you are so loved!” Whispered Sam, tears rolling freely down his cheeks.

“You’d better go introduce her to the others,” said Gabriel, wiping away the tears with his thumb, “I think Bobby’s about one minute from breaking down the door.”


	13. MELODY

Sam was skint. Gabriel knew that Sam had no money left and so he wasn’t expecting a large Christmas present. He himself had decided that something homemade was the best way to go and so he painted a large painting of the two of them to hang above the fireplace in their room, and another painting of one of Sam’s favourite places in the world to go over their mantelpiece in the living room. But he had no idea what Sam was going to get for Christmas. He’d nearly said no gifts, but Sam had wanted to.

“I want to show you how much I love you,” he’d said.

Gabriel smiled at the remembrance of it. After all, Sam showed his loved his love every day of the year. Christmas was special enough, just because Gabriel had Sam in it.

On Christmas morning, Gabriel went downstairs to find Sam sat on the sofa with a present bow on his head and a smile on his face. He was holding his guitar, which had a small tag on the end which he offered to Gabriel.

This year, I couldn’t afford to get you anything, so here’s something that was already in your heart and something from mine. Sam x

Gabriel sat down opposite Sam and smiled, excited about what was about to happen; only good things happened when Sam was holding that guitar. Sam looked down at his feet for a moment and then began to play, strumming softly on his guitar.

“I never meant to be so bad to you,” he sang, voice mellow and beautiful as he played, “One thing I said that I would never do.”

Gabriel loved that song; he had done almost since he could remember. He had first heard it playing from his brother’s CD player as a teenager. At the time, he couldn’t have known how much it would come to mean to him, but now it was a part of him that he couldn’t remove. It had been with him through everything: births and deaths (not his obviously), crushes and crushings, hook-ups and break-ups. He sang it when he was happy, and when he was sad. He’d sung it on karaoke the first night he met Sam.

Now, here was the perfect man, whom he’d met whilst singing this song, singing it back to him, in his own acoustic version with a slight twang in his voice and an uncertain look in his eyes.

“…shone in your eyes,” finished Sam, as the last chord wavered out into nothingness.

“Oh my God,” said Sam, said Gabriel, tears of happiness rolling down his cheeks.

“Wait, there’s another,” said Sam, waiting for quiet again.

“Used to think that there was nothing missing  
That my life was great  
That it didn’t matter if I didn’t have love,   
So long as I didn’t have hate,” sang Sam, with conviction and guitar accompaniment.

Gabriel frowned as he tried to recognise the song, but he couldn’t.

“But then you hit me like a bullet,   
Right between the eyes,   
With your soft singing voice,   
You made me realise.”

Gabriel suddenly realised that it was an original song that Sam had written.

“There is nothing more important,   
Than my love for you,   
If you were ever to leave,   
I don’t know what I’d do.

Because my love for you,   
Keeps me going strong,   
Love for you,   
Is the reason for this song.

I’m sorry that this present,   
Isn’t something to show around,   
I’m sorry it’s not expensive,   
And it’s not recorded sound,

But I didn’t know,   
What else to do,   
Because my money’s run out,   
Long before my love for you.”

Sam stopped, letting the last chord hang in the air between them.

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” said Gabriel, rushing over to the man and giving him an awkward hug around the guitar, “that was beautiful; I loved it.”

Sam grinned and took of the guitar so he could hug Gabriel properly.

“I love you.”


	14. NAME

When Sam and Gabriel arrived through the door of Dean and Cas’ house on Christmas Eve, they found the two men sat amongst a pile of presents, concerned looks on both of their faces.

“Hey,” said Sam, putting their overnight bags in the hallway, “what’s wrong?”

“The tags have fallen off all of these presents,” said Castiel, not taking his eyes from the pile, as if they would move if he looked away.

“Yeah, we don’t know who any of these presents are for,” said Dean, getting up and going through to the kitchen, returning moments later with four open beer bottles.

“Thanks Dean-o,” said Gabe, sitting next to his cousin.

Dean rolled his eyes and Sam took a bottle for himself, also sitting down.

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Sam, “why don’t you just get everyone to open one and then switch it up afterwards?”

“Because then it will be apparent that we are idiots who knocked off their tags!” said Dean, taking a long swig of his beer.

“We all already know that!” laughed Sam, causing the whole room to laugh.

“But, we should attempt to pretend it’s not true.”

“Fine,” said Sam, “how do we fix it?”

“We could unwrap everything and then rewrap it and stick the tags back on,” suggested Gabe, drinking more of his beer.

“No,” said Cas, “we have no more wrapping paper.”

“You guys are useless,” said Sam, hitting his beer bottle against his forehead slightly.

“That’s a fine way to talk about your older, wiser brother,” said Dean.

“Wiser?” asked Sam with a laugh, “as if.”

“Yeah, I could never match your smarts,” said Dean, seriously, “that’s why I married Cas; at least he can keep up with half the things you say.”

“You are very clever, Dean,” said Cas.

“Yeah.”

Dean didn’t sound very convinced, but they quickly took another drink, and everyone else followed suit.

“So,” said Cas, “what should be do?”

“I guess we could … try and work out what things are from their shapes,” proffered Sam.

“Okay, but I can’t remember what we got people,” said Dean, sheepishly.

“Wow, that’s some skill for forgetting things that you’ve got there, Dean-o,” said Gabriel with a smile, “but we’ll just use the tags.”

“Okay…” said Dean, unsure.

Sam reached over and picked up the top tag and, reading it aloud, he said, “To Ellen, to warm those winter nights.”

“I think that we got her a hot-water bottle,” said Castiel, frowning in concentration, “So kinda square and tapering at one end.”

Sam selected a present fitting the description and squeezing gently, found that it was floppy, as an empty hot water bottle would be. Sticking the tag to it, he turned his attention   
to Gabe who was reading the next tag.

“Jo-girl, so you remember that you are always a Winchester.”

“Oh, checked shirts,” said Sam and Dean at the same time, because of course it was, they always wrote that tag for checked shirts.

Feeling the presents until they found another fairly flat and floppy present that they tagged and moved on.

“Bobby, because … yeah.”

“Such a helpful tag,” said Gabe with a roll of his eyes.

“It’ll be alcohol,” said Sam, reading his brother like a book.

“So, the bottle bag then?” said Gabriel with a little point of his beer bottle.

Sam nodded and watched as Cas attached the tag, leaning back at an awkward angle to affix it to the bag.

“It really says something about the number of people that we know that only three of them are left,” said Gabe.

“One is yours, one Sam’s and one Kevin’s,” said Castiel simply, “I’m sure Dean and I can take it from here, if you want to take your bags upstairs or start dinner.”

Sam and Gabe took their cue to leave and stood, smiling.

No one noticed the tag situation, but every time they Sam and Gabe looked at Castiel or Dean, they cracked up to the confusion of everyone else there.


	15. OVERWHELMED

Sam gripped Gabriel’s hand tightly as they walked up to the front door, festooned with a wreath and a merry greeting asking Father Christmas to stop by. When they reached the front door, the two let go of each other’s hands so Gabe could knock. Sam’s second hand was occupied by alcohol, Gabe’s by gifts.

The wooden door swung opened to reveal a large hallway bathed in golden light. Stood in the door way was Gabriel’s mother, hair in an untidy bun and a smile on her face.

“Hello Gabriel,” she said, reaching in to hug him.

Gabe returned the embrace and then moved inside, putting the presents down.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” asked his mum, and then to Sam, “I don’t know where he got his manners, Sweetie.”

Sam smiled, put at ease by the lady who seemed to have given Gabe his soft and caring side.

“Sorry, I forgot you guys hadn’t met yet,” said Gabe with a face, “Mum, this is Sam. Sam this is my mum, Linda.”

“Hello, Sam,” said Linda, hugging Sam, “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

“Thank you very much for having us for Christmas, Mrs Milton,” said Sam, breathing in and smelling cinnamon.

“Please, call me Linda or Mum, whichever you’d like.”

She smiled a comforting smile and Sam smiled back.

“Okay,” she said, tuning to Gabriel, “we’re in the lounge at the moment, as are the presents.”

Sam followed Gabe as he made his way towards the lounge through the large hallway. To Sam, whose childhood had consisted of crappy motel rooms and Bobby’s small bungalow, this place looked like a palace, all polished wood and brass.

Gabriel pushed a door open slowly, wary of those behind it, and then entered the room to a chorus of greetings.

“Cousin Gabe!”

“Gabriel.”

“Gabe.”

“Uncle Gabriel!”

“Brother.”

Sam followed to see his boyfriend being swallowed beneath a pile of bodies. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, taking in the scene. Even in the massive room, there seemed to be no space. People sat on every available surface, chatting and laughing. Some had babies on their knees, some glasses of alcohol (some had both!) but everyone looked happy.

Abandoned by his boyfriend, who was now greeting a couple of tall men, one blond and one dark, Sam searched for someone else he recognised. Finally, he saw Cas stood at the window. Fighting his way over, he stood beside his friend, pulling a beer bottle from the bag he was still carrying.

“Didn’t bring Dean then?” asked Sam.

“He didn’t want to ‘step on your toes’, I believe was how he phrased it.”

“What?”

“It is your turn to meet the family.”

“Oh joy,” said Sam, looking over his shoulder, “no offense.”

“None taken; we’re very … full on.”

“Cas, Mum needs you in the kitchen,” came a shout from behind.

“Duty calls,” smiled Castiel as he left, once again leaving Sam alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

“I swear, if you weren’t taken I’d have already tried at least three pick-up lines.”

Sam turned to find the blond who Gabriel had been talking to.

“Hello, I’m Sam,” he said, holding out his free hand.

“Hey Sam,” smirked the other man, “I’m Luci.”

“Nice to meet you.”

The two men shook hands, and there was a moment of silence as they stared out of the window at the snow which had begun to fall softly again.

“I really hate to do this,” said Luci, after a moment, “but Mikey and I drew lots so it’s my job. Sorry.”

Sam guessed what was coming.

“Gabriel is the third oldest here and he’s a real dick, but he’s our real dick, so don’t fuck it up. He’s in really deep for you and if you hurt him, then we’ll … set the children on you.”

Right on cue a gaggle of kids ran in, screaming and waving swords. For a brief moment, conversation stopped as all the adults passed to watch them, then they were gone again and the conversations resumed.

“I’ll remember that,” smiled Sam.

“Don’t forget though,” said Luci, looking away and back out through the window, “now that you’re family, if you ever need someone (or a lot of someone’s) in your corner, we’ll be there; don’t hesitate to pick up the phone.”

“Thank you,” said Sam, understanding the importance of the sentiment behind the words, as well as being grateful for their obvious meaning.

Luci nodded and wandered off to talk to someone else. He was soon replaced by Gabriel and a whirlwind began because Sam had to be introduced to everyone there. Sam was tugged round the room, greeting everyone. Names and faces flashed past fast, and then Gabriel was dragging him out of the room and upstairs to see the children. They too were introduced and forgotten almost instantly. Then, just as suddenly as he appeared, Gabe was called off to sort out a red wine spillage or something. With a chaste kiss on the lips, he was gone, leaving Sam once again in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

The noise and lights were getting to Sam slightly, and he could feel his body tensing and his breath getting quicker. He didn’t know what to do, hemmed in by so many people, so he left, heading out into the garden through the front door.

The snow fell silently, pirouetting from the sky and landing on Sam’s hair and clothes. He shivered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and strolling round the house to the back garden. There, winter flowers and evergreens flourished creating an impressive effect and a beautiful image. Sam stood there, looking at it, until his nose was running and his toes were freezing.

“Hey Sam.”

He turned to see Linda coming out of the back door behind him.

“Hello, you have a beautiful garden,” he said, smiling.

“Thank you,” she said, coming to stand beside him, “but why are you out here admiring it, with your blue lips, instead of inside, using them to admire a beer bottle?”

Sam smiled slightly; the jesting glint in her eyes was just like Gabriel’s.

“When we were kids, Dean and I, we never had big Christmases. In fact, we didn’t really get them at all. We were usually in a motel and Dad was almost always out and we didn’t have much money, so Dean and I would always give each other dumb presents like sweets from a service station,” said Sam, not saying how those ‘dumb presents’ kept him going, were his favourite part of the year, “it’s just a big leap.”

Linda smiled, a knowing look in her eyes, and put her arm around his waist, guiding him back inside.

“Come on into the kitchen where it’s warm at least.”

***

When Gabriel went looking for Sam, he found him peeling potatoes with Cas and laughing at one of Gabe’s mum’s jokes. He had fit right in.


	16. PAIN

Gabriel woke. In hindsight it was an awful idea because, now he was awake, he could feel everything and he really wished that he couldn’t. His head ached and he felt sick. Every time he moved, pain flared behind his eyeballs. He stopped moving and lay there still, eyes closed until he heard the door open.

“Morning,” he heard Sam say, “I brought breakfast.”

“Thanks Sam, but I’m not feeling to good,” said Gabriel, attempting a weak smile.

“Okay,” said Sam, leaving again and leaving Gabriel in a silence that he abhorred.

But in a minute, he was back, sliding back into the dark room quietly and making his way around without turning on the lights.

“Okay, babe, I’m here,” he said after a moment, sliding into bed next to Gabriel, “I need you to sit up a bit.”

Gabriel struggled to sit up, Sam helping with a hand on the small of his back.

“This is a couple of aspirins and a glass of water,” said Sam, pressing them into Gabe’s hands.

Gabe took the pain killers and chugged the water, handing the empty glass back to Sam.

“Thank you.”

“There’s a bucket by the bed if you need to be sick,” said Sam, laying a cold flannel on Gabe’s forehead, “and I’ve told Dean and Cas not to come.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas,” murmured Gabriel, laying back down and putting an arm around Sam’s lap.

“Nonsense,” said Sam, “now I have you all to myself.”

Gabe could hear the smile in Sam’s voice as he spoke.

“Where did I find such a good man?” asked Gabriel to Sam’s stomach.

“At the kiss cam, when you kissed me instead of the girl next to me.”

Gabe laughed slightly and then curled round his stomach a bit more.

“Tell me another story about you before we met,” he said, breathing slowly.

“Okay …” Sam thought as Gabe snuggled closer, “well, when I first went to Stanford, I got into an embarrassing situation.”

“My favourite kind.”

“So, I went to a freshers’ night, but I didn’t get the last bus, so I had to walk. But I was new in town, obviously it was freshers, so I didn’t really know where I was going. I managed to make it out of the town, heading in the right direction for campus, but I soon reached a dark area outside of town and got to another party. I assumed it was another freshers’ party, so I got into it, drinking and dancing, but I was blind drunk in about three minutes. I woke up in the morning with a fake moustache on and a bra made out of party hats like a wannabe Madonna and …”

Sam faded out, knowing that Gabe was asleep in his lap.

When Gabe woke on the day after Boxing Day, he was absolutely fine and proceeded to pig out on all the sweets that he’d missed out on, on Christmas day.


	17. QUIET

This.

This was moment Sam loved. This breath of silence, the pause between applause and music that heralded everything that was to come.

His breathing slowed to silence and his world shrunk to this rink, the cool air on his face, the collective held breath of a stadium and Gabriel. As that moment starched out into infinity, he looked across at his partner (in all senses of the word) and smiled. He looked so handsome in red and black like a devil on the ice. Which was precisely what they wanted, because Sam was dressed in white and silver and their routine was about the struggle of good versus evil, angels versus devils, especially inside oneself. Not that the viewers would get that, but Sam and Gabe always found their routines better, more real somehow, if they were trying to say something.

And then, with a snap, time sprang back to normal. The first notes of their song rang out and they moved, their bodies shifting in harmony with each other and the music. His heart pulsed to the beat as they glided over the ice, blades slicing and glinting in the light and Sam realised why he liked the moment of silence so much. The calm before the storm, the wedding before the lifetime of happiness, the second before the rush of love as you meet the one.

The pause made the movement and the noise and the joy all the sweeter.

Sam executed a practically perfect triple toe loop, away from Gabe who skated to catch up before being thrown into another jump by Sam. Sam felt so alive on the ice, with Gabriel; he never wanted it to end.

Then, Sam reached the last lift of the round, technically a masterpiece if they could pull it off. Sam lifted Gabriel, turning him in the air until Gabriel had his hands on Sam’s shoulders, in a hand stand style lift. The crowd clapped, thinking that this was the end of the lift, but then Gabriel appeared to fall, to a gasp of dismay from the audience, but he caught himself with the grace and strength of a pole dancer, holding himself horizontal for a moment. The crowd began to clap again, thankful that they had been wrong about his fall.

The Sam began to turn and move over the ice as Gabriel slowly descended, stomach muscles on fire, until he was in Sam’s arms, whereupon Sam stopped turning and the final chord of their song played.

This time, the crowd went insane! Half of them were on their feet and people were whistling and cheering all around them. Sam started grinning and leant down to hug Gabe.

“Well done, babe,” he whispered.

“Well done yourself.”

This.

This was the moment that Sam hated. This moment of silence before the scores were announced, before their fate was decided. Sam could tell that the audience was on their side, but that didn’t mean anything when it came to the judges. Their last lift had been incredible, so he had high hopes, but this second before the combat, the moment before the slaughter, the minute before the gunshot was the worst.

And then, with a snap, time sprang back to normal. The judges announced their score and they breathed a sigh of relief as they took the gold medal at the Worlds. Next stop, the Olympics.


	18. RAIN

The rain pounded hard, beating the pavement as Sam headed home from work, collar turned up, head tucked down, like a turtle in a snow storm. The drops of water fell from the sky to hang in his hair, like monkeys in a palm tree and he wondered if Gabriel was somewhere getting wet too. He hoped he wasn’t, that way, he’d be able to give him a huge, wet hug, just to annoy him.

Sam stepped through the front door and shut out the storm. Standing there, he dripped water onto the porch floor. After a brief moment he pulled off his jacket and hung it on the hook, kicking his shoes off as he did. Then he stripped off his jeans, shirt and socks before jogging through to the kitchen.

“Hey honey,” he said to Gabe, who was dressed in his pyjamas and one of Sam’s hoodies, kissing his head and throwing his clothes in the washing machine, “can you set that off for me please?”

“Of course,” said Gabriel, stirring the milk he was heating.

“Thanks Gabe,” said Sam, heading upstairs to the bathroom.

Stripping off his final layer, he climbed into the shower, feeling the almost stinging heating power of the water as it pulsed down on him. He scrubbed his skin, quickly, and then washed his hair, enjoying the sensation of his fingertips dragging against his scalp. Then he stepped out onto the mat, steam curling around as he pulled a towel round him and headed along to the master bedroom.

There, he pulled checked pyjama bottoms and a grey shirt and a hoodie matching the one Gabe was wearing.

A quick scrub of a towel across his hair made it dry enough for him to pad back downstairs, slotting his feet into slippers almost as an afterthought. He met Gabe at the bottom of the stairs and followed him through to the living room where he sat in the sofa, curling his legs up. Gabriel sat next to him, and tucked his feet under Sam to keep them warm. 

The rain continued to beat down outside, filling the room with white noise. Gabriel handed Sam a mug of hot chocolate which he drank greedily, chugging back the hot liquid before placing the empty mug on the coffee table. His grin showed off the chocolate moustache clinging to his upper lip to perfection. Gabe leant across to kiss it off, tasting the chocolate on Sam’s lips and breath.

Soon, they were both warm, forgetting the rain altogether.


	19. SOFT

“I hate Christmas,” said Gabriel, the first time he and Sam were together for the festive season, “that Jesus guy was actually a bit of a prick and Dad didn’t even really like him. I don’t want to celebrate his birthday which, by the way, was in June.”

“I don’t like Christmas,” said Gabriel, when Christmas came round again the next year, “it’s a corruption of my religion and people are always using Dad and Jesus to justify this awful holiday.”

“Christmas is boring,” said Gabriel, when the 23rd bore the news that Sam was pregnant, “I’d much rather shop for the baby than for our dumb family who already have pretty much everything that they need.”

“Christmas is alright,” said Gabriel, on their first Christmas in the new house, bouncing his little girl on his knee, “I still think that they make too much money out of the commercialisation of an ancient religion, but I guess it’s okay.”

“Christmas is good,” said Gabriel, stirring the cheese sauce, his not-so-little girl on one hip, “I enjoy seeing my family and Sam’s family (even though they’re mostly the same people). Everyone always seems so excited, especially the kids.”

“Christmas is great,” said Gabriel, icing the final touches on his gingerbread house and feeding the left over icing to his five year old, “I love seeing everyone’s faces as they open our carefully chosen gifts, and I’m always excited to see what people have got me, and each other.”

“I love Christmas,” said Gabriel, as he bought Sam’s present in June, and again when his seven-year-old opened her brand new running spikes, “it makes people really happy and no one should take that away.”

“Christmas is the best holiday,” said Gabriel, years later, when his seventeen year old girl told him that she wasn’t really into Christmas anymore, “you can never be too old for Christmas and you should embrace the happiness of your family.”

“Sure thing, Papa.”

His daughter leant in and hugged him.

“Go look outside,” said Gabriel, watching the confusion flicking across her face, “after all, you haven’t opened your present yet.”

She raced outside and Gabriel watched as she began to literally jump with joy at the sight of her new car.

“I love Christmas.”

Sam overheard and looped his arms around Gabriel from behind.

“You’re going soft in your old age,” he smirked.

“I know, wait until she finds the tickets to the Olympics in the glove-compartment.”


	20. TELEPHONE

Sam was sat on the sofa, Mary next to him, leaning over to look at the small screen.

“Daddy, he’s not on screen,” said Mary, tapping it to prove her point.

“Don’t tap the screen honey,” said Sam, avoiding the remark about the emptiness of said screen, “you’ll make it dirty.”

“Sorry Daddy,” she said, sitting back, looping her arm through Sam’s and leaning her head against his shoulder.

“It’s okay honey; Papa’ll be on in a minute.”

Sam hoped he was right; he really did. Gabe was out in Afghanistan and he hadn’t called in a week. This wasn’t uncommon, but every time it happened, Sam was scared. He was bloody terrified. He had a range of fears: he was scared that Gabriel would find someone else out there, who he could relate to more; he was scared that Mary was forgetting who her Papa was; and he was scared, petrified, that Gabriel wouldn’t return at all. 

So staring at the black screen with just Gabriel’s name at the top made him feel like he was staring through the abyss at a gravestone.

When the light flicked on and Gabe’s face appeared on the monitor, it was all Sam could do not to reach out and try to touch him through the pixels.

“PAPA!” called Mary, a big grin spreading across both their faces.

“Hey there baby girl,” said Gabriel, “my, you’re getting so big. Not as big as your daddy though.”

“No, Daddy’s HUGE!” Mary held her arms high above her head causing both men to laugh.

“He sure is,” said Gabriel, “hey there, by the way, Gigantor.”

“Hey,” said Sam, not trusting himself to say more.

“Papa, do you want to see the drawing I did at school?” asked Mary, unaware of the tension in the room.

“I’d love to, baby,” said Gabriel, smiling.

“I’ll go get it off the fridge.”

Mary jumped up off the sofa and raced off.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Sam leaned in close and laid his palm on the screen where Gabe’s cheek was.

“I miss you, Gabe,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion.

“I miss you too, Sam,” said Gabe, tears shining in the dim light of his room.

“Will you be home for Christmas?” asked Sam, looking round the living room at the decorations that were already hung up.

“I think so,” said Gabriel, “I hope so.”

“I hope so too.”

“Got it!” called Mary, racing back into the room.

She held up the drawing. There was Gabriel, drawn holding Sam’s hand and on his shoulders was Mary, where she sat so that she was the same height as Sam.

“Baby, it’s beautiful,” said Gabriel, “you leave it on the fridge and I’ll take a good look at it when I get home.

“Okay Papa,” said Mary, laying the picture down carefully next to the monitor.

 _“Hey Angel Boy,”_ came a voice from somewhere, _“I’m sorry, but your time’s nearly up.”_

“Okay,” called Gabe over his shoulder and then, turning back to the screen, “I have to go now sweetie.”

“Aww,” said Mary, “I wasn’t done talking to you.”

“Come on honey, say bye bye to Papa,” said Sam, blinking back tears.

“Bye Papa,” said Mary who had started to cry.

“Bye Mary,” said Gabriel, “and bye Sam; I’ll see you at Christmas.”

***

That had been a couple of weeks ago. Now it was Christmas Eve and Sam and Mary were in the airport. Crowds of other military spouses were pushing around them but Mary held tight to Sam’s hand.

“Where’s Papa?” she asked for the ninth time.

“He’s on the aeroplane and he’ll be here really soon,” said Sam, “how about I lift you up so that you can see when Papa’s here?”

“YEAH!” cried Mary, suddenly enthused.

Sam swung her up until she was sat on his shoulders, little feet banging against his chest. She put her arms around his forehead and craned her neck.

“I can’t see him yet, Daddy.”

“Well, he might not be off the plane yet darling,” said Sam, stroking her leg to keep her clam.

“But I want him to be,” cried Mary, “I miss him.”

“I miss him too, sweetheart.”

Mary’s sobbing was growing louder by the minute.

People all around them were looking now, after all even silent they’d be a sight, standing at over seven feet tall. Most of the other children there were at least two years older than Mary and their parents were all looking at Sam with understanding and a sort of pity.

Sam began to bounce slightly in an attempt to calm down his crying child.

“Come on Mary,” he said, “we don’t want Daddy to see you crying when he arrives, do you?”

“No,” sniffed Mary.

“Okay then, we’ll just calm down for Papa.”

Sam watched again, still bouncing slightly to placate Mary, desperate to see a glimpse of Gabriel’s face, though he knew that he was probably still on the plane.

Minutes dragged as the whole room seemed to hold its breath.

“I SEE HIM!” yelled Mary, rocking on Sam’s shoulders as she pointed.

Sam looked in the direction that Mary was pointing and all of a sudden, his knees went weak, his heart pounded in his ears and his breathing rate tripled. There was Gabriel, living, breathing and looking right at him. People were laughing and crying all around, glad to see their loved ones again.

Sam couldn’t move, his feet glued to the floor as Mary beat her hands against his head. Gabriel seemed to move like molasses towards them, tears rolling down his cheeks. Sam helped Mary down from his shoulders in a dream and watched as she ran towards Gabriel, where he picked her up, spinning her round, before holding her close, knuckles tightening in her hair and across her back.

And finally, Sam broke out of his stupor and raced forwards, enveloping Mary and Gabriel in his long arms. He pulled them close, closer, feeling their heartbeats against his chest and wishing like hell that he never had to let go again.

Gabriel could hear Mary’s muffled sobs between them and fought to get his own tears under control before he pulled away, grinning wildly.

“Hey Mary,” said Gabriel, “can I put you down a second?”

“Okay Papa,” said Mary, clinging to his leg when she was stood on her own two feet.

“Hey gorgeous,” he said, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

Awful scenarios flickered across Sam’s brain as he stood dumbfounded and frowning in the baggage claim.

“I’ve finished my tour,” he carried on, “they’ve taken some months off for extraordinary bravery.”

“Gabe, I –” Sam was cut off.

“When I finished tour number one, I asked you to marry me. When I finished tour two, we adopted the second light of my life. What can I do to mark my exit from the army?” Gabriel shrugged, “we’ve done it all, so Sam, would you like to remarry me?”

“I’d love to,” grinned Sam, “I’ve never wanted anything but you and Mary.”

Christmas had never been better.


	21. UGLY

“Oh, SHUT UP!” said Gabriel, “your youngest son has been bruised, bloodied and battered by you and now you’re giving me the ‘don’t hurt him’ speech? You can fuck right off.”

Three hours ago, Gabriel and Sam had at Dean’s house, laden with presents and alcohol. Their smiles had been almost wider that their faces as they’d hummed along to the Christmas tunes which were drifting through the windows. Dean had opened the door and there had been a round of warm hugs and the gifts and alcohol were put in the living room for easy access when the time came. The others would be arriving for an evening party, but the four of them always spent the day together. Cas wasn’t there for the hugging because he was in the kitchen, music blaring and apron tied tight around his waist, swaying his hips to the beat as he cooked.

“Hey Cas,” said Sam, “how’s it going?”

“I’m good thank you, Sam,” said Castiel, stirring the frying mushrooms which would eventually form part of the stuffing, “how are you?”

“I’m really happy to be here,” said Sam, “happy not to have to worry about things.

“Good, we are glad that you are here too,” said Castiel, “would you like some alcohol?”

“I’d love some cider,” said Sam, “but I’ll get it; you’re busy.”

Sam went over to the cupboard and got himself a glass before pouring some cider and leaning against the table.

The two men were chatting and cooking when Gabriel went into the kitchen to grab a beer. The doorbell rang as he popped of the cap and he went to answer it because all the others were busy. A man stood there, black beard clinging to his chin and hands thrust deep into his pockets.

“Um … hey, is Dean here?”

“Dean?!” yelled Gabriel over his shoulder, “there’s someone at the door for you, unsurprisingly really, since this is your house.”

“Who is it?” came Dean’s shouted reply.

“Don’t you think I’d have already told you if I knew?” asked Gabe, feigning hurt.

“Not really,” said Dean, appearing behind him, “I think you’d do it just to annoy me.”

“True,” said Gabriel and they both laughed.

Dean’s smile faded however as he took in the stranger standing there.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, all traces of mirth gone.

“Can’t a man visit his family?” asked the man.

“A man can. You can’t,” said Dean, “and we’re not your family.”

“Dean, who is it?” asked Castiel arriving from the kitchen with Sam in tow, presumably because he wanted to know why their latest guest was still stood outside in the cold.

“It’s my dad.”

Those words sent Gabriel reeling. So this was the pathetic lowlife who ruined Sam’s childhood and destroyed Dean’s sense of self-worth. He was the reason that Sam woke in the night begging for an unseen fist to stop hurting his brother, to take him instead, the reason Sam had been dragged away from his college education, the reason that Dean had had a crippling drinking problem. He was the source of all the pain in Sam’s life and all the emptiness in Dean’s.

“Gabriel,” came Sam’s voice as if from the end of a tunnel, “don’t.”

“But –” said Gabriel, turning to face his husband.

He caught a glimpse of Sam’s expression and stopped. Sam just wanted John to go away and Gabriel wouldn’t help that by hitting him.

“Excuse me, I need another beer,” said Gabriel, voice as frosty as the ground all around them.

He pushed past the others and back into the house where he went into the kitchen and punched the wall a couple of times.

“Come in,” he heard Sam say behind him, “I’m sure you can stay a while.”

 _How can he do that?_ Thought Gabriel, _after all that bastard did to him._

After calming down a little bit further, Gabriel went back through to the living room where everyone else was now sat. Dean and Castiel had taken up one sofa, sitting with their legs touching gently. Sam was on the other sofa, looking smaller and more alone than Gabriel had ever seen him, even when they first met (in a hospital where Dean was comatose from alcohol poisoning). John was sat alone on the armchair, but he looked as if he was never going to leave, just like the scars he left on his boys were never going to leave. Gabe’s anger boiled up again, but he pushed it down, going to sit next to Sam. He put his arm across the back of the sofa behind Sam, an unconscious gesture of protection and possession.

“So si- John,” said Dean, biting back the title that he had used as a child before he learnt that the man who he looked up to didn’t deserve his respect, "what brings you to town?"

“Just the usual,” replied his father, “work.”

Dean’s fists tightened on his jeans and Gabe could feel Sam tensing up. He put his hand on Sam’s arm and his husband shot him a grateful smile.

“And of course, I came to see my favourite boys.”

“Bullshit,” said Castiel, startling everyone in the room with his vulgar language and forthrightness, “we are all aware that your favourite offspring is Adam Milligan.”

There was silence for a minute, but no denial was forthcoming. Castiel stood up, his anger very clear for everyone who knew him to see, but John was completely oblivious. Gabriel didn’t want to know what would happen when Cassie snapped, all he knew was that last time someone had been sent to hospital.

“I must go and see to dinner,” said Castiel, “I would appreciate some assistance please, Dean.”

Dean stood and followed Castiel out of the room, not looking at his father even once.

“Would you like a drink?” asked Sam, courteous even to a man whom he hated so much.

“Whiskey,” said John, leaning back.

Sam rose and headed for the kitchen where they kept the drinks. Maybe his courtesy had been merely a rouse to escape the room, thought Gabe. John too stood and went over to the door as if to leave, but instead he closed it, leaving him and Gabriel alone in the room.

“I noticed that you are sitting very close to my son and I am not sure that it is appropriate,” he began.

“Excuse me?” said Gabriel, not believing what he was hearing.

“What are your intentions?” asked John, turning back to face Gabriel.

Rage began to course through Gabriel’s veins again, like a drug.

“I intend to still be married to him even after meeting you, if that’s what you mean.”

“You’re married?” said John, though Gabriel couldn’t tell if he sounded shocked or disgusted.

“Yes, both of your sons and their spouses are here today; it was a party of two married couples until you rudely invited yourself.”

“Dean and that … Castiel fellow?”

“Yes, if you cared at all, you’d know that.”

“How dare you accu-”

“How dare you,” interrupted Gabriel, “come swanning in here like it’s your right to see them whether or not they wanted to see you.”

“It _is_ my right as their dad.”

“You may be their biological father, but Bobby will always be their dad.”

“What?” John frowned in confusion.

“He walked them both down the aisle; you didn’t even come to the weddings.”

“I wasn’t invited!”

“BULLSHIT!” yelled Gabriel, “I wrote your invitation to our wedding myself, because Sam asked me to. He wanted you to be there and you let him down, like you always did.”

“I don’t want to argue with you,” said John, rubbing his face, “I just wanted to warn you that if you ever hurt Sam …”

“Oh, SHUT UP!” said Gabriel, “your youngest son has been bruised, bloodied and battered by you and now you’re giving me the ‘don’t hurt him’ speech? You can fuck right off.”

Sam had come in behind John, but neither of the room’s other occupants noticed him.

“How dare you!” yelled John, taking a step towards Gabriel and raising a fist.

Wrong move.

The fury that boiled in Gabriel’s mind radiated from his skin, giving him the presence of a much larger man. Suddenly the foot or so that John had on him was seemed like nothing at all. His eyes flashed with the pleasure of the almost drug in his body and his hands clenched as he tried to restrain himself.

“I DARE! I dare because I am the one who watches your son wake screaming at the thought of you. I dare because I have seen physical scars on Sam’s skin from your boots and fists. I dare because I have witnessed one of the strongest, bravest, loveliest men I know crumble at just the mention of your name. So I dare. I dare because I have seen Dean four or five bottles of wine deep trying to forget you. I have seen Dean getting into bar fights that he could easily win and letting punch after punch hit it’s mark because that’s what he thought he deserved. I HAVE SEEN Dean value himself so little that he expects rejection at every turn and wouldn’t even believe Cassie when he first said yes to the proposal. So I dare because you are a son of a bitch and you have hurt us, all four of us, by what you did to the boys, hurt us more than your puny mind can possibly comprehend. I dare because I hate you with every cell in my body and you have the fucking nerve to walk in here and tell me not to hurt Sam, when that is all you have EVER done. So how dare _you!?”_

The outburst had left John stunned, cowering slightly in the corner and unable to speak. Gabriel calmed down and then his anger came back a little at the sight of Sam.

“Get out,” he spat.

John hurried out past the others who had gathered to watch.

“I’m sorry about that,” said Gabriel.

“Don’t be,” said Sam, “don’t ever be.”


	22. VALIANT

Gabriel had long since stopped being interested in soul-mates. He had woken the night after his eighteenth birthday with a burning on his shoulder. He’d thought that he’d screwed up whilst drunk and got a tattoo, but it didn’t take him long to remember that it was actually his mark, the one everyone got on their eighteenth birthday. He’d tried twisting and turning in front of his mirror, but all he could see was the flick of the end of a letter curling up over his shoulder. He’d had to call Cas, his brother to check what it said.

_Sam._

It had been years since Gabriel had first heard his soul-mate’s name. Since then he had heard the name on a hundred lips, some saying that they know him, some saying that they were him. But they all had one thing in common: none of them were looking for a Gabriel.

He wanted to scrub the name from his skin after another failed date with a “Sam”. He’d tried boys and girls called Sam, even transgender and hermaphrodites (not that there was an ‘even’ about them, most of them were lovely people, but he’d never thought that he’d be attracted to them.) His sexuality had practically become Sam-sexual. He didn’t give a damn what was in their pants, so long as Sam was on their birth certificate.

Now, he was 23 and he was alone.

Sams had come through his life like sand through an hour glass. He envied Castiel; he only had to find a Dean and there couldn’t be that many of them. He wished he’d had a Thaddeus or a Niquita as his soul-mate instead of _Sam._ Not that he wasn’t sure that he’d love Sam when he finally met him or her, but it was this waiting time before they met that was hurting so much.

Gabriel reflected on all this as he sat in a pub on New Year’s Eve, third beer firmly in hand and a bag of peanuts on the bar in front of him, shoving handfuls into his mouth as he thought.

Doodled on his wrist was the word “Sam” and the mantra “Don’t stop waiting.” He’d written them there in case he got so smashed that he tried to get himself a soul-mateless fuck.

He finished his beer and ordered a tequila shot, downing it the moment it arrived.

“You know of any good New Year’s Eve parties going on?” he asked the bartender as he paid his tab.

“Yeah, a couple of brothers are throwing one four doors down, number 21.”

“Thanks,” said Gabriel, slipping off his barstool and heading that way.

He reached the door and found it open. Heading into the living room, he saw crowds of people all dancing and drinking.

“Hey,” said a voice behind him, “we know you?”

Gabe turned and looked up into brown eyes.

“No?” he hazarded, worried that the man would throw him out of the party.

“In that case, I’ll get you a drink personally,” said the giant with a smile, “what would you like?”

“”Um … I’ll take a cider if you don’t mind,” said Gabriel, stunned by the beauty of the man, although maybe the amount of alcohol already coursing through his veins was helping him along to that conclusion.

“Okay, follow me to the kitchen and you can grab some snacks whilst we’re there,” he moved off, still speaking, “you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.”  
It sounded almost admonishing as if the man knew that Gabriel had been doing just that earlier that evening.

Gabriel followed, admiring the way the taller man’s jeans and shirt fit tightly across his shoulders and thighs, pulling just right to show off his muscular form. He shook his head to clear the thought and caught a glimpse of the writing on his arm.

_Sam_

He took his mind off the distinct muscles on the man’s back and tasked it with coherent conversation.

“So, you own the place?” he asked over the sound of the music.

“Yeah, me and my brother,” said the man, striding through the door at the end of the hallway, “our pseudo-father gave it to us in his will.”

“Really?” said Gabriel, for some reason relieved to find that the ‘we’ in the man’s opening sentence was a brother, “you live with your brother?”

“Yeah, I know that it’s weird, but neither of us can afford our own house, so here we are and I have to put up with house parties all the time.”

“You know you love it,” said another tall man, green eyes sparkling with drunken joy.

“I do not!” retorted Gabriel’s guide, rolling his eyes.

“Gabriel laughed slightly at this, guessing who the man must have been.

“That was my brother, Dean,” said the tall man, a grin across his face.

“Okay Moose,” said Gabriel, his drunken brain settling on the first nickname that it could find, “show me the cider.”

The man laughed and went over to the makeshift bar, pouring out two glasses of cider.

“Here you go,” said Moose, holding out one of the glasses.

“Thank you, oh moosey one,” said Gabriel, taking the glass with a nod and a bob.

“You are most welcome, oh drunkey one,” he replied, mimicking Gabriel.

“Oh, you mocketh, but I shall be the better drunk,” said Gabe, sipping at his cider.

“Yes, I mocketh, now would you like a seat before the better drunk falls over?” he asked, gesturing to the table in the corner.

“I would, I think, like a seat,” said Gabriel, glad that the opportunity to sit was proffered before he had to choose the floor as a better option to standing.

He slid into one of the chairs and his new friend slid in opposite him, their knees touching slightly.

“So what brings you, alone, to the house party of two people you’ve never met on New Year’s Eve?” asked Moose, chugging some of his cider.

“Ah, I’m holding out for my soul-mate and I need alcohol in my veins to do so.”

The alcohol was making his tongue a little loose.

Moose laughed, the sound loud and bubbling against the noise of the room, cutting through the sounds around them. Gabriel could feel his spine tingle at the sound, the ache of worry and loneliness lifting for an instant.

“So, you’ve never kissed anyone?” asked Moose, leaning in almost conspiratorially.

“I’ve kissed plenty of people, before I got my mark, and whilst I was looking for my soul-mate,” said Gabriel, “with his or her infuriating common name.”

“You don’t even know gender?” asked Moose, surprised.

“Nah, the name on my back is bloody unisex!”

“That’s not fun,” said the man, draining the rest of his cider.

“Nope, but how about you?”

“Mine’s not a very common name, so it’s fairly easy for me, unless I want to meet him before I’m bloody 40 years old.”

This time, Gabriel was the one to laugh, a sound he considered vastly inferior. As Gabriel’s laugh died away, so did the music.

“I know it’s not a sparkling laugh, but it shouldn’t end a party.”

Moose laughed, “No, it’s the countdown, silly.”

He stood gesturing for him to follow suit and grabbing his hand when he did. Gabriel jumped at the contact, but allowed the man to pull him out onto the veranda. The cool air hit him like a blessed wave after the heat of the party.

“10 … 9 … 8 … 7 …” began the massed countdown.

“I know this is gonna sound weird …” said Moose.

“5 … 4 … 3 …”

“… but when we …” he continued.

“1!”

“Fuck it.”

Sam leaned in and kissed Gabriel on the lips. The softness moved against Gabriel’s lips, sending waves of sensation along his nerves, pleasure pulsing through him.  
Fireworks went off in his mouth even as they erupted in the sky above. His heart beat quickened and he pulled closer, needing the touch.

Pulling away, Gabe laid his head against the other man’s chest.

“Hey Sam.”

“Hey Gabe. I’m glad you didn’t give up on me.”


End file.
